


The Dick Pic Story

by PoemIsDead



Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF), Markiplier (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Dick Jokes, Dick Pics, Drunk Texting, Lots of dick jokes, M/M, Marking, Masturbation, Or mentions at least, Sexting, So Much Awkwardness, Texting, it's sexting guys, mark can make a dick joke out of anything, there's a lot of texting in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-11-27 20:31:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20954483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoemIsDead/pseuds/PoemIsDead
Summary: Jack accidentally sends Mark a dick pic. Mark just won't leave it alone.





	The Dick Pic Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CookieDancer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieDancer/gifts).

> Y'all, I started writing this bitch A YEAR AND A HALF AGO. I cannot do ANYTHING in a timely manner, I swear to dog.
> 
> Honestly though, this is one of my favorite things I've written to date, so thank you so much Cookie for riding my ass here. Nothing's worth a wait that long, but I hope this makes up for it just a little bit.
> 
> Also, please excuse how much texting there is in here, this is a very text-based story, and I cannot stress enough how fun it is to write these two texting okay

Jack groaned as he rolled over, soft morning light stabbing at his eyes as he tugged his blankets around his head to block out the damned sun. His head was pounding, stomach roiling with every motion, and he was pretty sure he was going to have to get up here very soon to get pain meds or throw up. He couldn't decide which was worse.

At least the bed was familiar. It had been a long time since he'd let himself drink like that, and he'd been known to pass out in weird locations in the past when he was particularly hammered. But even without opening his eyes, he knew he was in his own bed, the familiar scent of his detergent and the little tear in his pillowcase that he'd memorized with his fingers assuring him he was home and safe, and hadn't ended up in some random person's house.

The possibility that there could be someone random in _his_ house didn't occur to him for another half hour, and he made a pitiful sound in the back of his throat as he lifted his head and cracked one of his eyes to glance at the space next to him, praying he didn't have some drunk college girl to feel stupidly guilty about.

Or worse, a fan.

But the bedside was mercifully empty. Which was a hell of a relief, even if it made something twinge deep in his gut, something sad and melancholy that was quickly shoved aside in favor of pain meds and coffee.

He wasn't entirely sure how he managed to make it to the bathroom. It must be early, and he had a suspicion there was still alcohol in his system, feeling the way the world was tilting oddly as he splashed water across his face and brushed his teeth.

God, that had been stupid. Jack couldn't believe he'd let himself be talked into that madness. First, just a drink before he said goodbye to some old college friends. Then just a few more as they entertained a gaggle of sorority girls, Jack keeping his head low as he avoided possible fans and ending up drinking a bit more than he should have to keep himself distracted. And maybe when one of his friends suggested following the girls to another pub up the street - an obvious sign of an impending pub crawl - Jack was a little too drunk to make the smart decision.

God, he hadn't drank like that in _years_. And how stupid had it been, no planning, no backup to get him out of there if he needed it, everyone around him just as drunk, if not drunker, than he was, and surrounded by college kids, any number of whom could have recognized him. Could have called him out. Could have taken pictures and posted them all over the internet.

Jack managed to get a pot of coffee brewing before he leaned against the counter, one hand cradling his aching head as the other flicked up his phone and took in the plethora of notifications he had. He kept most of his social media alerts off his phone for fear of insane spam, but that didn't stop the text messages and direct messages littering his notification bar.

A quick glance at his text messages revealed nothing from Robin, which he would have expected if there were already pictures up online, and that made him relax just a bit. There were a few from his college friends, two from numbers he didn't recognize, one from Mark, and one from Macy, which sent his gut into a funny little roil before he swallowed and turned his attention to his social media.

He made the rounds quickly. Twitter, YouTube, Tumblr, the works, and nothing of concern jumped out at him. A few funny posts and art pieces that he wanted to share or keep, possibly, but nothing like what he'd expect after leaked pictures of him doing a kegstand or something.

Not that he'd ever successfully done a kegstand.

Had he?

Jack groaned and tossed his phone on the counter before turning his attention back to his coffee and another glass of water.

Well, no social media fire to put out, that was good at least. Looks like the only damage control he needed to take care of was his raging hangover. And whatever Macy had texted him for.

God, he had a sinking suspicion of what that had been.

They'd dated for a while. If one could call it dating. Macy had a very . . . liberal view on the term. Part of the reason they weren't together anymore. Theirs had been more of a . . . physical dalliance, and Jack was fairly ashamed of how often they'd come back together in the past, when one of them - usually Jack - was feeling particularly lonely, or touch starved.

He doubted her texting him after his binge night was a coincidence. But he hadn't woken up with her in his bed, so there was that, at least.

Once he had a proper cup of coffee in his hands, Jack sat down at his kitchen table and started scrolling through his messages, fighting his brain back into a state of coherence as he checked his email and started sorting through his texts.

He had several messages from the guys, a few of them drunk texts about where they were headed next, or that they were leaving with some girl or just going home for the night. Most of them had managed to text him at some point to let them know they'd gotten home safe, and Jack found he'd already drunkenly responded in kind to a few.

Jack took a moment to respond to any of them still left in the dark that he was home and safe and nursing a hangover, and checked to make sure they were all okay, before turning his attention to his other messages. Just Mark and Macy, and Jack was already cringing as he saw the latest message from Macy.

**Macy:** _Sleep well, baby~_

God, what had he said to her last night? He could only hope it wasn't something stupid and whiny, or at least nothing particularly pathetic. He could get . . . well, the loneliness had a tendency to crush in a bit when he was drunk, and he just hoped he hadn't sent her some stupid mopey ex-boyfriend text.

Mark's text, on the other hand, looked much more inviting.

**Mark:** _So how far have the leprachauns drilled into your head this morning?_

Jack snorted, immediately regretting the action as his head pulsed angrily, and his fingers acted on their own as he flipped the messages open and shot a quick reply back before he bothered to read anything else.

**Jack:** _Oh my god, kill me now._

So he'd drunk texted him, too. Well, that wasn't half so bad. Mark had texted him plenty of stupid things when he wasn't even drunk. And he doubted he was whining about how lonely he was to the American.

Right?

Jesus, wouldn't that just top the night off right? Getting stupidly drunk, blindly following around old friends he hadn't seen in years and giggling 21-year-olds who were still learning to hold their liquor, hitting up his ex for a possible booty call and whining to his friend about how lonely he was.

Pathetic meter at maximum, cap'n.

Jack flipped back over to Macy's messages, gritting his teeth and just wanting it over with as he scrolled back up to the start of the night. Not too many messages, thank god, but he already saw enough to know he was gonna be embarrassed by this conversation.

**Macy:** _A little birdy told me you're drunk off your tits._

**Jack:** _im not drunk of f m tits_

**Jack:** _i dont got tits_

**Jack:** _ii gota dik_

**Macy:** _I know you've got a dick, sweety._

**Jack:** _yea_

**Macy:** _God, how drunk are you??_

**Jack:** _a lot_

**Macy:** _Go home, Jack._

**Macy:** _Do you need me to come get you?_

**Jack:** _noo im drunkin leave me alon_

**Macy:** _C'mon baby, tell me where you are and I'll come get you._

**Jack:** _no yer gonna sex me_

**Macy:** _Jack, you're drunk, you couldn't get it up if you tried._

**Jack:** _excuse me_

**Jack:** _I cold b hard as a rock if i wantd t ok_

**Macy:** _Okay Jack, you can show me when I pick you up. Now where are you?_

**Macy:** _Jack??_

**Macy:** _Hey, let me know you made it home okay, please?_

The last few messages were from over an hour later.

**Jack:** _im home n safe_

**Macy:** _Thank you, Jack._

**Macy:** _Sleep well, baby~_

Well. It could have been worse, he supposed. Although "yer gonna sex me" might go down as the cringiest thing he'd ever said over text message before. At the very least he hadn't sent her some stupid poetic nonsense about his loneliness.

An alert from Mark caught his eye, his response too long to fit in the notifications, and Jack flipped back over to his messages there. So long as he hadn't professed his undying love to him or something, it looked like he'd come out of this particular stupidity relatively unscathed. Which was . . . well, a pleasant surprise.

**Mark:** _Ohooo no buddy, even death wouldn't stop that kind of hangover_

Jack snorted, and once again regretted it.

**Jack:** _Jesus, how much did I drink??_

**Jack:** _And how did I not end up in a stranger's house with penises drawn on my face?_

He was grinning at his phone as he typed, steadily relaxing as the pain relievers and coffee worked through his system, and he realized nothing had exploded just because he got shitfaced. He took another sip of his coffee, still smiling, and starting scrolling back up through his messages with Mark to find the start of the conversation, wondering what stupidity the two had traded while he was blackout.

And then everything came to a freezing halt as he took in the picture, sitting there, neat as you please, in his messages with Mark.

His eyes flicked immediately up to double-check the name, make _sure_ that was really who he was talking to, before the panic and terror and _oh fuck no_ started to set in.

The was a dick pic. That was _his_ dick pic. That was a drunk dick pic he had sent to Mark, and something in Jack just wanted to shrivel up and die.

Fuck it. He'd rather there be pictures of his drunk ass plastered all over social media rather than _this_. Oh, dear _god_. _Why?_ What the fuck was he doing so drunk that he was sending fucking dick pics to his friend. And why _Mark_? Robin or Ethan or probably any of his old college friends would have been fine, they would have ignored it, pretended it didn't happen. But Mark . . . that fucker wouldn't ever let him forget this.

Another message came in from said fucker, but Jack's eyes were closed, taking a deep breath, pushing that stupid urge to run and hide back down in his gut where it belonged, before turning back to read back through this trainwreck.

He stopped to look at the pic first. It was at the top of messages, the first thing he'd sent him since they last texted almost a month ago - they usually talked over Discord if they were going to talk these days. It was blurry and the lighting was shit, and he was pretty sure it was taken in a pub bathroom, the dark tile and wallpaper behind him unfamiliar and generic.

It wasn't anything fancy. His black jeans were unbuttoned and shoved just out of the way, the band of his underwear shoved down under his balls, and one hand was pressing against the side of his shaft to keep it up against his stomach as his other presumably held the camera. It was blurry and messy and unmistakably his dick, and Jack just wanted to crawl into a hole and die now, please.

With a deep breath he looked down to the messages he'd sent with it.

**Jack:** _see? hard as a rock_

And then it clicked. _Macy_. He'd been trying to send it to Macy, not Mark, as proof that he could get hard while drunk, and that was so fucking stupid, why did he have to be that kind of drunk? She didn't need any fucking proof from him, and god, at least he hadn't actually sent that to her, because that would have started another whole ordeal.

No, instead he'd just sent it to Mark. Fucking hell.

Jack groaned, cradling his aching head and resisting the urge to put a cool hand to his burning cheeks as he looked down at Mark's reply.

**Mark:** _Well that was a hell of a way to say hello_

**Mark:** _I'm gonna guess that wasn't meant for me?_

**Jack:** _marrk_

**Jack:** _mark im dunk_

**Mark:** _I can tell_

**Jack:** _im nott hat drunk_

**Mark:** _You're sending me dick pics dude, you're pretty drunk_

**Jack:** _no im jus bored_

**Jack:** _tell me a story_

**Mark:** _lol what??_

**Jack:** _talk to meeeee e_

**Mark:** _It's like 2AM and you're drunk as fuck, go to bed_

**Jack:** _dont wanna_

**Jack:** _im having fun_

**Mark:** _Are you?_

**Jack:** _wat r u my dad???_

**Mark:** _I mean, you can call me Daddy if you want_

**Jack:** _i hateyu_

**Jack:** _hold on they wanna go t o another bar_

**Mark:** _Jack?_

**Jack:** _ye_

**Mark:** _Do you really wanna go with them?_

**Jack:** _im slepy_

**Mark:** _How about you go home instead. We can record something tomorrow when you're feeling better, okay?_

**Jack:** _ok_

**Mark:** _Thanks Jack. Text me when you get home?_

**Jack:** _youra good m_

**Jack:** _Im home mark_

**Mark:** _Glad you're safe. Sleep well!_

**Mark:** _You know you're never living this down_

The next message was the first one he'd seen, and Jack had to set the phone down for a moment as he tried to drown himself in coffee. Well, that could have been worse. At least Mark hadn't sent one back or something. And he'd been pretty chill about the whole thing. Convinced him to go home. All things considered, he'd been pretty nice about it.

And that would have been a bigger consolation if he wasn't painfully aware that Mark was just waiting for him to be coherent enough to suffer from his teasing.

After he'd finished off his current cup and fetched another, Jack sat back down and opened the messages again, reading the last one Mark had sent him.

**Mark:** _You haven't scrolled up yet, have you? :)_

Jack wanted to punch that smiley face right in its digital mouth.

**Jack:** _Oh dear god_

**Jack:** _That was NOT meant for you_

**Jack:** _Holy shit_

**Jack:** _Fuck, I am never drinking again_

**Mark:** _Ahahahahahahahaha_

**Jack:** _It's not funny!_

**Mark:** _I thought it was pretty funny_

**Jack:** _It's not! Oh god, you're gonna be insufferable_

**Mark:** _Oh god yes_

**Mark:** _Who tf were you trying to send a dick pic to anyway?_

**Jack:** _None of your damn business_

**Mark:** _Awwww come on Jack_

**Mark:** _I took care of you while you were drunk_

**Mark:** _I didn't spread you dick pic out amongst the hoard_

**Mark:** _Least you can do is tell me about your lady friend ;)_

Jack glared at the screen, warring between embarrassment and a weird giddy feeling that made him want to both laugh and maybe slap Mark a little. He was being an ass. But he was being a friendly ass, he supposed.

That didn't mean he wanted to have to explain his awkward relationship with his ex over text messages with the guy who already knew about his dick pics. Already _seen_ his dick pics. _Oh god_.

**Jack:** _I don't have a lady friend_

**Mark:** _Guy friend then_

**Jack:** _god no_

**Mark:** _Alien?_

**Jack:** _Mark_

**Mark:** _Please tell me you weren't sexting someone you just met_

**Jack:** _Oh my god, you really are my dad_

**Mark:** _Just call me Daddy Mark_

**Jack:** _Oh god no_

**Mark:** _I mean you're already sending me dick pics, I figured we can go ahead and skip to the kinky names_

Jack's stomach did something weird, and he glared at the screen.

**Jack:** _I hate you_

**Mark:** _I'm gonna call you Jackababy_

**Jack:** _Oh my god how much do I have to pay you to make you forget this ever happened?_

**Mark:** _There isn't enough money in the world, buddy boy_

Jack groaned and sank into his chair, holding his coffee that much closer, like he could somehow eek some semblance of strength simply out of the warmth and smell it was giving off. God, there was so much teasing in his future, he could already _taste_ it.

But if teasing was all he got out of all of this, then it wasn't really that bad, was it?

His phone buzzed again, and Jack glanced down at the new message.

**Mark:** _Did you wanna collab?_

Jack rolled his eyes, smiling down at his phone as he took a deep breath.

**Jack:** _Lemme get some editing done and go through my email and shit. Maybe in a few hours?_

**Mark:** _Sure, ping me whenever_

  


* * *

  


He didn't actually ping him that day. Not that that was that abnormal. With their busy schedules and the awkwardness of different time zones, it was pretty common for collab plans to get pushed back until they could find some of that almost mythical mutual free time, and neither of them was bothered when the other had to delay any of their plans. Just a facet of the job.

So it wasn't surprising when it was another two weeks before they actually got a chance to record something together, though Jack hadn't exactly been expecting it to come in the form of a group collab with Ethan and Bob. Not that he was upset in the slightest when Mark managed to weasel him into joining in on the impromptu gaming session at 9:30 PM his time, despite the shit he gave him for it.

He came to regret that by the second round of their little cops and robbers type game. The game was engaging enough - fairly rudimentary as far as graphics and gameplay were concerned, but with friends, it was certainly fun - and the first round had seen Jack and Bob crushing Mark and Ethan with the kind of lucky ease that left the other two screeching in indignation.

Unfortunately, that luck didn't stick around for the second round, and Jack found himself squealing into his microphone as he ran down hallway after identical blocky hallway, praying he didn't find one of the multitudes of dead ends that plagued the game map as Mark bore down on him.

"Jaaaaaaaaacky," Mark taunted, getting closer to the microphone as he dragged out the name.

"Nope. _Nope_. _NOPE_," Jack crowed as he twisted through the identical corridors, hoping and praying he'd see one of the game's portal doors at the end of one of the damn halls.

"Oh, _Jaaaaaaaaacky_. C'meeeeeeere Jaaaaacky."

"No! L'me alone!" Jack made a strangled noise as he turned a corner to find a dead-end, turning sharply and backtracking as his heart hammered in his ears. "Go find Bob!"

"Oh, no, I want _you_, Jackababy."

The nickname went right over Jack's head as he spun on his heels searching desperately for an escape route.

Unfortunately, it didn't go right over Ethan's head.

"_Jackababy,_" the younger man snickered, his laughter growing louder when Bob let out his own little "Hah" of amusement, and Jack almost choked on his over-the-top game-panic he'd been putting on for the camera when he realized what they were laughing at.

He'd almost forgot about the stupid nickname. Despite Mark's initial teasing, the dick pic accident hadn't been brought up once in the last fortnight, and it had faded in his mind as fast as an incident like that could possibly fade.

Obviously, it hadn't faded quite so much for Mark.

"Shut up, Fischbitch," Jack squeaked, voice much higher than he'd intended as he fought for a normal tone. Teasing. Just normal teasing. Exactly what he'd been expecting since the moment he realized what he'd done. So long as Mark didn't, like, tell the story of where the nickname came from or anything, it was just Mark being his usual little shit self.

"That's 'Mr. Daddy' to you."

The absolute little _shit_.

As if the gods were repaying him for his torment, Jack turned the next corner to find a portal door - one that brought him right to the "Big Fuck-Off Ax" as it was called - and suddenly the tides were turned.

"Oh, Mr. Daddy Markiplier is it?" Jack asked, the grin spreading across his face as he ignored the odd little twinge his gut gave at those words, instead focusing on the little flash of excitement that thrummed through him when he turned yet another corner to find Mark's primitive avatar stalking in the opposite direction with his little pea knife. Perfect prey for his new toy. "I've got something for you _Daddy_."

"Oh, do you, Jackababy?"

Jack was not about to examine how those words rumbled in that deep baritone made him feel just then. Not when it was so much easier to just swing the massive ax wildly at the chunk of blobby polygonals that was Mark, and grin widely in satisfaction as Mark _screamed_ in surprise.

"WHOOOO- HEY- WHOA- LET'S TALK ABOUT THIS- aw, damnit."

The voice chat erupted into laughter as Mark's death notification popped up in the top right corner, drowning out the jaunty little tune the game played on death. Jack cackled right along with it, taking the moment to stand over Mark's bloody corpse, jumping and swinging the massive axe with giddy pride.

"Wow, Jackababy got you good, there, huh, Mark?" Bob asked, the laughter still obvious in his voice.

"I didn't even see him!" Mark whined, but Jack could hear the grin in his voice. "He just came out, big dick swingin'-"

"Yeah, he swung that dick real good, didn't he. Just swung it and took your head right off, huh- wow, these halls are twisty."

"Wait," Ethan started as Jack set off down the hall again, still wielding his giant ax with an indulgent grin to the camera. "Wait, wouldn't . . . wouldn't your dick have to be huge to be able to cut someone's head off with it?"

Mark's cackling laughter broke over the call at the same time Jack and Bob both asked "What?" in incredulous voices.

"Wouldn't your dick have to be huge to cut someone's head off?" Ethan repeated, voice pitching higher as he put more emphasis behind the words.

"Yeah, and _sharp_," Jack shot back, laughing in bewilderment.

"No, but, even if it was sharp, it'd have to be really big to cut someone's head off."

"_What?_"

"Because, like, momentum? And reach? No, I'm serious-!"

"You saying my dick isn't big enough?" Jack asked, his throat tight with barely contained laughter, looking at his camera with a bewildered expression that was threatening to bleed over into outright hysterics.

"Not to cut somebody's head off with!"

"Well good thing I'm not trying to cut people's heads off with my dick!"

The call devolved into laughter again, Jack shooting another look at his camera as he grinned and giggled and continued mapping his way carefully through the game's maze.

"Jesus," Bob managed after a moment, still fighting back giggles before Mark cut him off.

"Look, I'm sure Jack's monster dick is big enough to do whatever he wants with it."

It was a completely normal bit of banter. Jack was 90% sure of that. It was absolutely in character for Mark to say it, and it was said in a tone Jack had heard a million times before, so there was _no reason_ for Jack's gut to flip the way it did.

Except, Jack realized as his response stuck in his throat, that wasn't exactly true, because this time, Mark knew exactly what he was talking about.

Mark knew exactly how big Jack's dick was.

Mark might as well have been complimenting Jack on his size.

In the middle of a call.

With no one else the wiser.

The thought absolutely did not belong in this moment. Not when he was on camera, not when he was trying to have fun with his friends, not when he had already decided he was going to ignore that incident and pretend it never happened and never think about it again.

But just the simple, innocent words were enough to send Jack into a weird tailspin, until all he could think for a single long moment was "Does Mark think it's that big?"

"Thanks, buddy," Jack managed in a surprisingly normal tone, despite the way his chest felt too tight, and he was sure his cheeks were bright red at this point.

"Hey, no problem, man."

"Mark's here for you, Jack," Bob said absently, only for his voice to pitch higher in excitement. "Oh, god, Ethan, whoa whoa whoa, what're you gonna do with that knife man? Hold on, let's- let's talk about this, _hey_-"

Ethan was cackling in Jack's ear as Bob's rambling pitched higher, the two quickly focusing on the game again as Ethan apparently got the upper hand, and Bob was calling for Jack and his "Big Fuck-Off Dick-Stick" - as he called it - to come save him.

Except Jack wasn't paying attention to Bob's desperate pleas at that point, his brain skidding to another jarring halt as he caught Mark's words muttered under all the yelling.

"I'm here for that _dick_."

Okay.

Okay.

He really needed his brain to stop. Now. Before it started going down the path it was trying really hard to go down, because that was _really_ unnecessary, and he was just trying to enjoy his game. Mark was _joking_, they were all just shit-talking, his dick did _not_ need to be interested right now, this was _not_ okay-

"I'm comin' buddy!" Jack shouted, a little louder than he necessarily needed to into his mic, drowning out the flood of thoughts he didn't want to hear as he launched himself back into the game.

He was putting that wall back up right now. Whatever wall had been up before Mark made the dick comment. Hell, whatever wall had been up before he sent the stupid dick pic. He was putting all his stupid thoughts back into their proper boxes, and he was never thinking about this again.

That, unfortunately, was much easier said than done.

  


* * *

  


The game turned out to be exceptionally popular, across _all_ their channels. Which was surprising, especially considering the shitty graphics and simple game mechanics. But with the views the videos were raking in, it really wasn't surprising that the guys wanted to do another collab.

It was Mark that messaged him about it. Of course. The little message notification popped up as he was in the middle of editing one of his other videos, Mark's icon seeming to scream at him from the corner of his screen, and Jack had to swallow down the stupid little knot that jumped up his throat.

He'd been . . . somewhat avoiding talking to Mark. Not that it was really noticeable. It wasn't like they talked all that often in the first place. Usually just when a collab opportunity came up, or when they had something in particular to discuss. So it wasn't really _weird_ that Jack hadn't talked to Mark since the last collab. But it was decidedly intentional.

Not that Mark had done anything wrong. The little jokes during the last video had been harmless, par for the course for their particular group of friends. Hell, Jack made his fair share of dick jokes, even about Mark sometimes, and it had never been weird before.

But just the knowledge that Mark _knew_. That Mark would actually be able to stop and picture his dick while he was talking about it, did something funny to Jack's gut that made it hard to act normal around him. It wasn't that he wanted to avoid him, only that he just wasn't . . . sure how to act around him. How to keep things normal. How to not think about Mark thinking about his dick and make this whole friendship weird.

Mark's message was short and simple, as usual, nothing out of the norm with the little "collab?" he'd sent without any other context. Jack swallowed down the quick flare of nerves, and answered.

**Jack:** _What game?_

**Mark:** _Same one from last time._

**Jack:** _You don't even remember the name, do you?_

A pause.

**Mark:** _It had an R in it_

Jack snorted, rolling his eyes as he bit his lip to stop the stupid laugh.

**Jack:** _Okay, you're not wrong, but_

**Mark:** _I don't know man, you know the game_

**Jack:** _Too lazy to even open Steam and find out_

**Mark:** _I've got a lot of games!_

**Jack:** _Uh huh_

**Mark:** _Seriously tho think you have time in like an hour?_

Jack blinked, glancing up at the clock. It was already late, later than he should be up getting into a session like that, and he'd have to go change his shirt back into something nice enough to be seen on screen. Which wasn't _that_ big of a deal, but . . .

**Mark:** _Come on, man, people want more of the Big Fuck Off Dick Stick_

**Jack:** _Oh, I'm sure they do_

**Mark:** _I know I do_

Jack's fingers stuttered over the keyboard, his heart leaping up into his throat in a clumsy little choking maneuver. _Fucking_ Mark Fischbach. Couldn't even leave the dick jokes for when there was an audience, and now Jack had to struggle to pull on his gaming persona to deal with that stupid little statement.

**Jack:** _Yeah, I know you're all about that Dick Stick, Mark_

There was a pause for a moment, no response, and Jack's stomach lurched with anxiety, immediately regretting ever answering the stupid thing, rereading the last few messages, picking apart every way he'd made that awkward in the tiny breach of time before Mark answered.

But then he answered, and it all went right out the window again.

**Mark:** _I mean, have you SEEN that Dick Stick?_

**Mark:** _Hard to not be all about it._

That . . . he was still talking about the game . . . right? He was definitely still talking about the game. He wouldn't be talking about anything else. Because otherwise that sounded way more like _flirting_ than _teasing_ and Jack was absolutely ready to nope himself right out of this conversation.

**Jack:** _I think I can do an hour. Can't stay on too late, got appointments in the morning._

No, he didn't, but he wanted that little out available to him. Because if Mark was going to keep pushing in this particular direction tonight, he may just have to bolt.

Mark's answer came over their group chat with Bob and Ethan instead of over private channels. Just a quick confirmation that Jack was available, and a few details to make sure they were all on the same page, and that was it. End of conversation.

Jack sat there for a few seconds afterward, rereading the conversation, shaking the silly little bout of anxiety back out of him. It was normal. It was just Mark joking, playing around like usual, and Jack was just reading way too much into it. And he needed to get this shit back under control before they started their next video together, because now he was definitely the one making shit weird.

Just ignore it. Pretend it didn't exist, and everything would eventually go back to normal.

  


* * *

  


Things . . . didn't exactly get easier from there. He survived the collab, though not without weathering several comments from Mark that he was absolutely _certain_ were normal game shit-talking but that had twisted his gut up into funny shapes. (Apparently, they'd collectively decided that the Big Fuck-Off Ax was a personification of _Jack's_ dick in particular, and that meant Mark's comment about "coming for that tasty dick" took on a whole new meaning that Jack wasn't sure he was ready to face.)

But it didn't stop there. The comments weren't just in collab videos after that. They were in tweets (**Jack_Septic_Eye:** "New flamingo swim trunks 😎" **markiplier:** "What, no speedo?") and fan art reblogs (**therealjacksepticeye:** "GAELIC GLADIATOR" **markiplier:** "hot") and even in Mark's solo videos ("I mean, obviously Irish is the sexiest accent."), and Jack just . . . didn't know how to handle it.

It _wasn't_ abnormal for Mark. Mark just . . . made those kinds of comments. He could go back through the American's internet history and find hundreds of examples for all kinds of people. It was just the way he was. And that had never bothered Jack in the past.

But now it was . . . different. Once that first traitorous thought crossed his mind, the first thought that put his dick in Mark's mind (_jesus_), Jack couldn't stop from changing Mark's jokes from innocent fun to something more.

It was the fourth or fifth time Mark asked him to join a collab that Jack finally balked.

**Mark:** _Hey Jackababy, think you got an hour or two to lend us your dick?_

__

The notification popped up, simple as you please, in the bottom right corner of his screen, innocent and plain and utterly destructive, and Jack had to breathe for a moment before he could put on his gamer face.

**Jack:** _I dunno man, you're starting to show signs of addiction_

**Mark:** _You mean aDICKtion?_

Jack did _not_ snort at that.

**Jack:** _You're hilarious_

**Mark:** _I know_

**Mark:** _people tell me_

**Mark:** _often_

**Jack:** _They should probably stop_

**Mark:** _But then how would I know I'm hilarious?_

**Jack:** _idk look in the mirror?_

**Jack:** _Oh no wait that's funny looking, my bad_

**Jack:** _I get those mixed up_

**Mark:** _D:_

Jack wasn't entirely sure why the little face made him start giggling, but once he started, it took several seconds of concerted effort to make himself stop.

**Jack:** _You'll catch flies like that._

**Mark:** _Well that's a boring thing to catch_

**Jack:** _What were you hoping to catch?_

He knew, he knew just _typing_ that that it was a bad idea. That it was inviting the very kind of comments he'd been so adamantly avoiding the last few weeks.

Didn't stop him from hitting send.

Mark's response was almost immediate.

**Mark:** _That dick, obviously._

Jack swallowed. Joking, he was joking, he was definitely joking, and he was also definitely flirting, and Jack was not wholly unaffected, and that was . . . _jesus_.

He shouldn't be encouraging this. He really shouldn't. Shouldn't he? Was he really okay with Mark flirting with him? Was he okay with flirting back? Was Mark actually trying to get somewhere with this, or was he just flirting to flirt? How harmful could this be?

Well, he'd already seen his dick, so they were past that hurdle.

_Jesus_.

He needed a minute. Several minutes. A lot of minutes, actually. He'd been avoiding thinking about this, and now he needed to sit down and think about it properly, and he needed time for that. If Mark was _actually_ flirting with him . . . which was what this was, right? This wasn't for any cameras or an audience or anything. This was private, just between them, and he was still doing it. Which was a good sign that he was actually flirting with him, right? Or was he completely unaware how far his jokes had gone?

Jack stopped and almost rolled his eyes at his own indecision. This wasn't that hard. He was an adult. He knew how to communicate. There was an easy solution to this.

**Jack:** _Are you flirting with me?_

There were a few seconds of waiting before the typing notification appeared, and Jack chewed his lip absently as he waited, his heart feeling like it was hammering in his stomach instead of his chest.

**Mark:** _What gave it away? Did I use the word dick too much?_

Jack took a long, slow breath, drawing it in until it hurt, before letting it out just as slowly.

Alright.

Alright, so that was a thing.

**Jack:** _You're the picture of subtlety_

**Mark:** _Says the guy who sent me an unsollicited dick pic_

**Jack:** _Okay, that really was an accident_

**Mark:** _Accidick_

Jack snorted, one of his hands coming up to push into his hair as he laughed shakily into his empty recording room.

**Jack:** _Accidick oh my god_

**Jack:** _You're such a dick_

**Mark:** _I HAVE a dick_

There was a moment of hesitation, and then Mark was typing again.

**Mark:** _Is that a problem?_

Jack stared at the simple little words, his laughter dying down as he read them and his gut tying up into that throbbing knot again.

Well, that was a question, wasn't it?

**Jack:** _still trying to decide on that_

Because that was a hell of a question. And one Jack wasn't entirely sure he could answer in a timely manner.

**Mark:** _Ok well while you try to decide, did you wanna come play again?_

Jack bit his lip, the knot in his stomach doing a little summersault now at the idea of talking to Mark over a call. Obviously, the American was having no trouble with this whole thing, but Jack . . . yeah, Jack definitely needed a minute. A lot of minutes. A whole day full of minutes at least.

**Jack:** _I was actually planning on going out_

**Mark:** _Out to where?_

**Jack:** _What, planning to join me?_

**Mark:** _If you think I wouldn't get on a plane right now just to show your smart ass up, you really underestimate my personal brand of stupid_

Jack laughed softly into the thumbnail he hadn't realized he'd been chewing on.

**Mark:** _Go do your thing_

**Mark:** _We'll just have to make due without your amazing dick this time_

**Jack:** _I know it's hard_

**Mark:** _A little, yeah_

Jack's stomach tightened sharply, and he made a tiny noise in the back of his throat, turning to look at the bland boring wall for a moment as he forced his thoughts back into order.

Okay. Okay, okay, okay.

**Jack:** _Only a little?_

This was frankly terrifying. Just sending that. He felt like he was back in high school again, fumbling his way through talking to girls, except he wasn't even sure he wanted to be encouraging this.

And yet here he was. Definitely encouraging this.

**Mark:** _I mean_

**Mark:** _I'm sure it'll be a lot harder the longer you sit here and tease me_

Jack swallowed, his hands flexing over the keyboard for a moment before they came back up to his face, pushing back his hair, wiping over his mouth. Encouraging. He was encouraging this. He was having _fun_ with this, and that was . . . he really should take a minute.

**Jack:** _I don't think I've ever been accused of being a tease in my life_

**Mark:** _Really???_

_I know,_ Jack thought to himself, scrubbing at is face again. _I know, I'm definitely being one right now, I know, jesus . . ._

**Jack:** _Shut up Fischbitch_

**Mark:** _Daddy Mark*_

**Jack:** _Dead Mark*_

**Mark:** _that's fair_

Jack definitely didn't giggle, but he wasn't entirely sure what to call the sound he made at that. Some kind of . . . uncontrollable . . . bubbly laughter . . . that wasn't giggling.

He definitely needed some time to think.

**Jack:** _Okay, I still gotta take a shower before I leave so_

**Mark:** _Oooh, dirty boi_

Jack choked.

**Jack:** _Mark I will end you_

**Mark:** _End me Jackababy_

**Jack:** _I swear to god_

**Mark:** _Go get clean, you filthy animal_

**Jack:** _Your flirting leaves a lot to be desired._

**Mark:** _Does it?_

Jack paused, biting his lip.

**Mark:** _can't tell if that's a compliment or not_

**Jack:** _Well what do YOU think?_

**Mark:** _Hey Jack?_

**Jack:** _Yeah?_

**Mark:** _You're a tease._

Jack snickered, the sound catching in his throat into an ugly bout of barely contained laughter before he managed to get it under control again. He bit his lip again as he typed out a quick response.

**Jack:** _D:_

**Mark:** _Just wanted to be the first to tell you ;)_

**Jack:** _I'm leaving now_

**Mark:** _See?_

**Mark:** _Tease._

**Jack:** _Goodbye Mark_

**Mark:** _Goodbye Tease_

Jack paused, digging his teeth harder into his lip as the knot in his stomach twisted in a way that wasn't wholly unpleasant.

His fingers tapped across the keyboard before he could think better of it.

**Jack:** _Have fun with your hard time_

Mark's reply was quick.

**Mark:** _wayyyyyyy ahead of you buddy_

Jack swallowed, taking several long, deep breaths before he looked back at the screen again.

Thinking. He needed sometime to think.

Going out to do it wasn't the worst idea.

* * *

  


Going out to do it wasn't exactly the best idea either.

It was several hours later that Jack stumbled back into his house, kicking off his shoes in an ungraceful shuffle before he headed for the couch. He wasn't drunk, per se. He had a nice buzz going, but nothing he couldn't perfectly think through. He hadn't exactly been planning to drink at all, really. But when he'd meandered his way into a pub up the road and started chatting with the guy next to him at the bar, it had felt only natural to take long sips between words. Which meant he was now riding the relaxing waves of mild inebriation, which really helped the whole panic thing he'd been worried about.

He hadn't actually had a chance to do all that much thinking about the whole Mark thing. He'd come close to bringing it up to the pub guy - he'd seemed one of those types you could just say anything to and he'd happily go with it - but the place had started to get crowded, and Jack wasn't eager to test the likelihood of someone both recognizing and overhearing what he had to say.

If this whole thing ever came to light, he'd _really_ rather it not be that way.

Although there weren't a whole lot of ways he would prefer it to be, and that was kind of the problem, wasn't it?

He shuffled onto the couch, leaning back into the cushions and relaxing his weary muscles, a loud sigh slipping from him at the familiar, comforting seat. Lots to think about. Not entirely sure where to start. The alcohol wasn't so much slowing his thoughts as it was diluting them, taking the punch out of the scarier ones and letting them meander at their own pace through his head.

So Mark was apparently flirting with him. Actually flirting, not just joking flirting. And Jack was not . . . entirely shooting it down. Which was . . . a thing.

A thing. _Good job, using your big words there, Jack._

Jack laid his head back against the back of the couch, closing his eyes and rubbing his hand over his face. Alright. Mark. Flirting with him. Could have a lot of possible outcomes. Some of them not so great. Some of them . . . a little better. Some of them-

His phone pinged, and Jack cracked an eye open as he reached into his pocket to fish it out. Who-?

Mark. Of course it was Mark.

**Mark:** _Hey lemme know when you get home we have scheduling questions_

It was a text message instead of discord, which meant the most recent reply above that had been from the dick pic debacle. Jack's eyes flickered up, swallowing as they caught the words "I'm gonna call you Jackababy" before he forced himself to focus on the newest message.

**Jack:** _Do you have cameras in my house or something?_

**Mark:** _Okay I'm thirsty but not that thirsty_

**Mark:** _why?_

**Jack:** _I just walked in_

**Mark:** _its my spideysense apparently_

**Jack:** _that's terrifying_

**Mark:** _have a good time out? what did you do?_

**Jack:** _Just grabbed a drink at the bar up the way_

There was a pause.

**Mark:** _How much of a drink?_

**Jack:** _What, are you being my dad again?_

**Mark:** _nah_

**Mark:** _just wondering how likely it is that I get another dick pic_

Jack's thoughts came grinding to a halt. He could feel the adrenaline starting up, excitement and something else coiling in his gut, and he licked his lips nervously as his fingers hovered over the virtual keyboard.

He hadn't really had time to think.

He wasn't really doing great in the thinking department at all, as it turned out.

**Jack:** _Not that much of a drink lol_

He hesitated, biting his lip, before he continued.

**Jack:** _Really should have savored that first one ;P_

**Mark:** _Who says I didn't?_

_God_, alright, this was a thing.

**Jack:** _Well, you'll have to keep on savoring it_

**Mark:** _You could have at least given me a better quality one if this was all you were gonna leave me with_

_Breathe in, Jack._

**Jack:** _Are you critiquing my drunken dick pic?_

**Mark:** _It's blurrrrrrrryyyyyyyy_

**Jack:** _Use your imagination_

**Mark:** _I have_

**Mark:** _wanna know if I was right_

Okay. Okay, now was the time to admit that he wasn't opposed to this. That he was _in_ to this. That this was exciting in a way very little had been in some time. Jack closed his eyes again, letting out a long, slow breath as he leaned back in his seat. There was a pleasant thrum in the back of his head from the beer and a more-than-pleasant throb just below his navel where his dick was taking a definite interest, and . . . okay.

Jack opened his eyes and typed with shaky fingers.

**Jack:** _A gentleman would offer to trade._

**Mark:** _I could be a gentleman_

Jack's teeth were digging sharp divets into his lip.

**Jack:** _Could you now?_

**Mark:** _I could_

**Mark:** _Would you like me to?_

Jack bit his knuckle, breathing in sharply through his nose. He'd just told Mark he wanted a dick pic from him. He'd just asked a guy for a dick pic. He'd just asked _Mark_ for a _dick pic_. But . . .

He wanted to see. He did want to see. It wasn't even that weird, or scary - okay, a little scary but not that much - he just . . . wanted to see.

**Jack:** _Sure_

Maybe later he'd realize how little of a response that was, but right then he could hardly make his fingers move to respond at all. And Mark didn't seem to be bothered by the short reply.

**Mark:** _Gimme a sec_

Jack read the reply, and then set his phone on the couch next to him, freeing his hands to smother his burning face. Alright. Alright, so he was going to see Mark's dick. Mark was going to show him his dick. Which was presumably hard. Because of him.

Wooh buddy.

One hand pulled away from his face, reaching down to readjust his very uncomfortable erection in his just-a-little-too-tight jeans, hissing between clenched teeth as the zip scraped over the thin material of his pants. The hand fell to his thigh when he was done, gripping high, just below where it met his groin, as his other hand covered both his eyes.

Okay. Okay, alright, okay, he was excited, this was exciting, he was . . . he was on board with this. He kept waiting for the chorus of "this is a bad idea" to start pounding in his ears as the anticipation built up in his gut, but it didn't seem to be happening. Just a distant thought it probably . . . was? a bad idea? And that he didn't really care. And that Mark didn't really seem to care. And that Mark probably had his pants down at this point to get a good pic, and _god_.

He turned the hand on his thigh, thumb stroking over his hip as he took another deep breath through his nose.

And then his phone pinged, and he froze, thumb digging in painfully to the dip in his hip.

_Pick it up,_ he told himself, but his hand hesitated as it wrapped around the warm plastic, eyes still closed behind his other hand. He was pretty sure Mark's dick now existed on the device in his hands, and that was . . . that was certainly a thought.

Taking another deep breath, he sat up straighter, holding the phone between both hands and staring at it for a long moment before he unlocked it.

It wasn't a picture message though.

**Mark:** _I expect a quality pic in return for this_

Jack swallowed, nervous grin pulling up one side of his face.

**Jack:** _Quality for quality, come on_

There was a pause, Jack's heartbeat hammering in his ears.

And then his phone pinged again, and that was definitely a picture message, and _oh_.

Jack shoved his knuckle between his teeth again to stop the sharp breath he took from turning into something more.

It wasn't like his. His had been blurry and hasty, taken in some strange bathroom probably paranoid as hell with shitty lighting.

Mark's was bright and clear and . . . artful? Was that the right word?

He looked like he was on a bed, dark sheets pushed up behind him, though he couldn't see more than that. It was framed over his torso, from mid-thigh all the way up to his neck, just the barest corner of his jaw visible at the top of the picture, turned away from the frame, and he was shirtless, a fact that seemed to shortcircuit Jack's brain for a moment there - that was a _lot_ of skin. His pants weren't off though, just opened and pushed down enough to show off the dips in his hips, faded scars just barely visible in the lighting.

And that was a dick.

That was Mark's dick.

It wasn't even weird. It was just a dick. Thick and quite hard, with just a little curve as it rested up against his pelvic bone, framed by a dark crop of curly hair. Nice. Attractive, even. Especially with the way he was pretty sure he could see a little glisten along the crown.

Okay. Okay, so that was . . . good. His dick was on board with Mark's dick.

Jack hesitated, swallowing as his fingers hovered over the screen. How was he supposed to respond to that? "Nice dick"? "I'm surprisingly okay with this"? "I kinda wanna touch it"?

**Jack:** _wow_

"Wow" seemed safe.

**Jack:** _that's certainly quality_

**Mark:** _Thanks, I tried really hard_

Jack made a little choking noise he wasn't sure was a laugh or not. He had tried really hard. Jack could tell he had, besides the innuendo. He'd take the time to get the lighting right, to find the right pose, to frame it just right. It was . . . sexy. It was sexy. The curve of his throat, the shape of his hip just peeking over his jeans, the vein running up his arm where he was holding the phone above him.

It wasn't even the dick that was really getting him. It was there, and it was obviously very interested in whatever Mark had been thinking about, which was implied to be Jack. But Jack couldn't stop staring at the corner of his jaw he could see. He wished he could see more of it. Maybe not his eyes, that might be too much, but . . . the rest of his jaw. His beard. His mouth.

_Oh._

**Mark:** _ok your turn to try really hard_

Yeah. Alright, his turn. Jack licked his lips, shifting in his seat as he looked down at himself. He'd need to shimmy his pants down some. And maybe take off his shirt. Which felt weird to do in the living room. Then again, where else was he going to do it? The lighting in his room was shit, and his sheets were going to be wrinkled to hell since he hadn't made his bed in a few days, and really what other options were there? The dining room table? The bathroom counter? His gaming chair?

Jack swallowed, looking up at the ceiling for a minute before whispering a soft, "Okay."

The couch it was.

His lip was raw by now, stinging lightly as he dug his teeth into it again, doing little to distract him as he undid his fly and pushed his jeans and pants together down his thighs. Shirt, shirt needed to come off, and his fingers felt stiff and clumsy as he scratched it off his back, heart back to hammering in his ears as the soft fabric of the couch brushed along his thighs.

The angle was hard though. How was he supposed to make this look sexy? What exactly was sexy for this kind of thing? What was Mark expecting? Or wanting? Or . . . 

And suddenly Jack's mind was derailed, hand still hanging loosely above him with the phone, as he thought about Mark . . . picturing this. He had to have imagined it already, right? To know that he wanted to try to get it from Jack. To _ask_ him for it. Was he imagining it right now? Was it exciting for him, like it had been for Jack?

What was he doing while he waited?

Jack's whole body shuddered, back arching slightly, and he could feel his dick twitch against his thigh.

Pose. He needed a pose. Something sexy. Laid out on the couch, that was sexy, right?

It took a long time. To get the pose right, and get the lighting right, and get the angle right. And by the end of it, he had taken _way_ too many pictures, and none of them were perfect, and he was scared to make Mark wait any longer.

He took one more, took a long look at it, flipped back to glance at the last few, deemed it better than them, and then hit send before he could think any more.

Jack watched the little spinner as the picture started to send, and his stomach flipped over and over in his gut.

He just sent a dick pic to Mark. On purpose this time. Sober, or, well, sober _enough_. He'd just-

Oh, fuck, was this _sexting?_

Jack jabbed his finger over the pic he'd just sent, blowing it up large over the screen, and his leg was jumping nervously as he looked it over again. His knuckle found its way back to his mouth, pushing hard against his teeth as his eyes raked over the pose.

He was laid back against the arm of the sofa, one leg crooked up against the back, the other hanging half off the front. His pants were undone and, just like before, only off far enough to get the access he needed, the dark jeans framing the hard line of his cock against the tense line of his stomach. It was . . . nice. It looked good. He thought, at least. He'd cropped it about the same as Mark, thighs to shoulders, just a little bit of neck, and-

No. This one he hadn't cropped quite the same as the others. This one had some of his jaw, his beard, his mouth.

You could just see where he was digging his teeth into his reddened bottom lip.

His phone pinged, and Jack jerked back to the text conversation before he'd had the time to panic.

**Mark:** _Oh wow_

Jack sucked in a short breath, his gut doing something funny as he read the words again, and then a third time. Just two little words, and they weren't even that extreme, but apparently just the thought of Mark being pleased with the pic was enough to do it for him.

He was learning all kinds of shit about himself today.

**Mark:** _Yeah that's way better than the first one_

**Jack:** _I was blackout drunk for the first one_

**Mark:** _Really? With wood like that?_

**Jack:** _I don't usually get whiskey dick_

**Mark:** _well fuck lucky for me_

Jack swallowed, vaguely aware that his hand was back on his thigh again, pressing against the muscle as his thumb ran along the crease where leg met groin. His stiffy hadn't waned, even with the stress of getting the picture perfect, and if anything talking to Mark like this was making it worse.

It would probably be pretty uncomfortable soon.

His hand shifted higher, thumb swiping along the skin just shy of his dick.

**Mark:** _you going to do something about that?_

Jack froze, eyes wide on the screen, and for a brief, paranoid moment, he thought Mark could see him.

But no. That'd just be the next obvious step, wouldn't it? Get hard-on, take pictures, take care of hard-on.

Or . . . no, he was about to offer to help, wasn't he?

Jack swallowed again, forcing down the lump forming in his throat as he struggled to write out his response.

**Jack:** _Thinking about it_

**Mark:** _Yeah?_

**Mark:** _What are you thinking about?_

Okay. Okay, yep, that was an invitation, and Jack had no idea how to respond. His expertise in this particular area was slim enough to be none.

Not that he was . . . entirely against it.

**Jack:** _Not doing so great in the thinking department_

Mark's answer was slow.

**Mark:** _Drunk?_

**Jack:** _No no just_

Jack hesitated, fingers hovering and teeth worrying at his lip again.

**Jack:** _Nice pic_

**Mark:** _Mine or yours?_

**Jack:** _Yours you idiot_

**Mark:** _r00d_

Jack laughed softly under his breath, hand falling back to his thigh and rubbing circles into the sensitive skin.

**Mark:** _I'm enjoying yours too_

Jack hesitated, heartbeat picking up again as he made himself stare at the little words. This felt . . . surreal.

**Jack:** _Really?_

**Mark:** _The way you're biting your lip is actually going to kill me_

He could feel the flush working up the back of his neck.

**Jack:** _Didn't mean to get that in the picture_

**Mark:** _Very hot_

**Jack:** _Glad that's doing it for you_

**Mark:** _You know, it really is?_

Jack could feel the muscles in his face twitching, holding the nervous little smile too long, and he let out a slow breath, trying to relax. This was okay. This was okay, he was okay, he was fine with where this was going.

**Mark:** _What does it for you?_

_Breathe. Be honest. It's fine._

**Jack:** _I'm not actually sure yet_

**Mark:** _Have you started taking care of the problem?_

Jack snorted, his knuckle slipping between his teeth again to stop himself from drawing blood on his lip. Leave it to Mark to word it like that.

**Jack:** _Not yet_

**Mark:** _You should_

Jack hesitated, staring at the words, swallowing, processing. Last chance. Last chance to back out. Last chance to make sure he was really okay with this.

He swallowed again, holding his breath for a moment as he scrolled back up to look at Mark's picture again.

Yeah.

He was really okay with this.

**Jack:** _Ok_

Putting a hand around himself was awkward for about two full seconds before he squeezed, and then awkwardness became a lot less important. He was achingly hard already, burning in his hand, and a long wet swipe of his tongue paired with the first hints of pre-ejaculate beading from his tip kept his grip deliciously slick. It was just like any good jerk-off. Great jerk-off, really. Except he was staring at a picture of his friend instead of pornography.

Fuck.

Jack closed his eyes, letting his head loll back against the couch as he floated on the mild buzz and the slow wash of pleasure he was building with every careful stroke. Okay. Okay, this was hot. Hotter than he would have assumed it would be. He was alone in his living room, perfectly private, no need to school his expression or his voice or anything else that came with having a partner observe him. But he was also painfully aware that he _was_ jerking off with someone else right now, that there was another person with his hand around his dick, thinking about Jack, _talking_ to Jack, excited at the idea of Jack getting off, and that was . . . that was really good.

His phone pinged again, but Jack didn't open his eyes yet, letting himself relax into the couch, hips shifting minutely as he paused to trail his fingers along the sensitive spot right under his head. He liked this. He liked the idea of Mark getting off with him. He liked the idea of Mark in that stupid picture. He liked . . . 

By the time he picked up the phone to look at the new message, his breathing was notably shakier.

**Mark:** _Good?_

**Jack:** _Good_

Jack hesitated, his eyes flickering back up through his last messages, and his stomach clenched uncomfortably as he read them from Mark's point of view. He wasn't giving the American much to go off of. Not that Mark seemed that bothered by it, but . . . Jack could do better.

_Really good,_ he clarified with quick fingers, and then forced himself to scroll back to the picture and look over it again. Mark had told him what he liked about his picture, Jack could do the same. Although the whole "putting it into words" part was a lot harder than he expected.

**Jack:** _Is it weird that your jaw is the part I can't stop staring at?_

Yeah, that sounded real sexy.

**Mark:** _Avoiding the dick or you like the jaw?_

**Jack:** _I like the dick and the jaw Mark_

**Mark:** _Oh cool_

Jesus. Okay, yeah, he could do a lot better.

**Jack:** _Wish I could see your mouth. Really like the idea of looking at it right now._

**Mark:** _Yeah?_

**Mark:** _Hold on I can fix that_

Jack swallowed, the grip around his dick tightening in anticipation for the pic he knew was about to follow. Mark didn't leave him waiting long.

**Mark:** _Better?_

Jack swallowed. Yeah. Yeah, it was better. Not something he thought he would have been into, but he definitely was. It wasn't even a raunchy picture. Just Mark from nose to collarbone, lips just barely parted, one side of his mouth pulled up in something that was threatening to be a smirk. And then another following close behind, this one centered over the bottom half of his face, and the thumb he had pressed against his pliant lips and Jack groaned as he rocked up gently into his fist.

"God," Jack breathed out loud, his voice hoarse, and he struggled to type with one hand.

**Jack:** _Yeah_

**Jack:** _Very better_

**Jack:** _Very much better_

Mark's reply was another picture, his thumb still pressed to his lips, but his mouth open this time, a glimpse of teeth and tongue and still a bit of that smile. And before Jack could even manage a reply there was another, lips sealed around the base of his thumb, cheeks hollowed where he was sucking, and Jack had no problem at all using his imagination as his fingers tightened around his slick shaft.

**Jack:** _Fuck_

**Mark:** _Can't do that over text_

Jack groaned, closing his eyes and pitching his head back against the couch again. His hand was warm, wet friction, soft sounds in the quiet of his living room, and he let out a shivering breath as he moved a little faster, meeting his strokes with small twitches from his hips. The buzz was a distant feeling in comparison to the low tide of pleasure pooling behind his naval, rising steadily with the gravity of Mark and his stupid pictures.

His phone pinged again, and he groaned as his stomach clenched in excitement, wondering if he was ever going to be able to hear that sound without thinking about this again.

**Mark:** _Shame I can't actually get to you_

**Mark:** _All kinds of stuff I can't do over text_

Jack's fingers were shaking as he struggled to reply with just the one hand.

**Jack:** _Pretty sure I'd embarrass myself if you were actually here_

**Mark:** _Oh?_

**Jack:** _I think I'd go off if you just breathed on me at this point_

**Mark:** _Ok yeah that would be a shame_

**Mark:** _Kinda wanna do more than breathe on you_

Jack could feel the flush burning up the back of his neck, part embarrassment, part arousal. This was farther than he'd imagined going, farther than he'd assumed he'd be willing to go, and yet the thrill had him panting into his living room, his mind more than happy to spin the teases Mark was giving him into full-blown fantasies.

**Jack:** _Kinda want you to do more than breathe on me_

**Mark:** _Wanna know what I'd like to do?_

_God, yes._

**Jack:** _What?_

**Mark:** _I'd like to put some marks on you_

Fuck.

**Mark:** _I bet they'd look great on all that pale ass skin_

**Mark:** _Suck one right on your collarbone_

Jack groaned.

**Jack:** _More than one_

**Mark:** _Yeah?_

**Jack:** _High enough they're hard to hide_

**Mark:** _Someone would see it_

**Mark:** _No way you hide them from everyone_

**Jack:** _They'd never know where it was from_

**Jack:** _Or how many there were_

**Mark:** _Thered be a lot if you let me_

**Mark:** _On your collar_

**Mark:** _And your neck_

**Mark:** _And your thighs_

Jack groaned again, dick twitching in his tight grip.

**Mark:** _And your hips_

**Mark:** _I could bite too and then they'd ache_

**Mark:** _And you'd feel them all day_

Mark's texts were shorter, coming faster, and Jack wondered if he was typing them sloppily with one hand while the other stroked his dick. If the choppy, messy style was an indicator that he was having as much trouble thinking ahead as Jack. If he was as breathless, if he was making the same kind of noises into the quiet of his bedroom.

**Mark:** _Probably only get a few on your hips_

**Mark:** _Think I'd get distracted pretty quick_

**Jack:** _Your gonna kill me_

**Mark:** _Don't wanna kill you_

**Mark:** _Just wanna get my mouth on you_

**Mark:** _See how much of that thing I could get down my throat_

Jack _keened_, a sound that would have been frankly embarrassing if he'd been able to hear it. Or think about anything other than the imagined feeling of Mark's mouth, wet and warm, his hot throat spasming around him, the sounds and the feeling, and looking down at Mark's stupid mouth stretched around his dick.

**Jack:** _Fuc k Mark_

He was balancing between the urge to slow down and speed up. He was there, he was right there, he really didn't need much more with the slick sleeve of his hand and the images playing out through his mind. But he wanted to hear more, wanted to hear what else Mark would say, how far Mark would go, and if he came, this was over, wasn't it? No guarantee of a repeat?

And he wanted Mark to get something too. He wanted to give something back, and he hadn't been doing a whole lot of giving, and-

And then his phone pinged again, and Jack didn't actually have a choice in the matter. 

**Mark:** _Would you rather cum on me or down my throat?_

Jack's breath caught, and he could feel the low, inevitable pull, the single moment of suspense before the first rope caught over his fingers and landed across his stomach, and suddenly the pleasure was washing through him so strongly that he dropped the phone, back curving and head snapping back against the back of the couch as his now free hand groped uselessly for something to hang on to.

"Fuck, _oh_, god, _yes_," Jack hissed, groaning loudly, relishing it knowing no one else could hear him here. He was safe to be as loud as he wanted. _Say_ whatever he wanted. "Fuck, _Mark_."

He dragged it out, hips making small, aborted thrusts as he stroked himself through it, slowing eventually to squeeze along the way until all he was getting was little drips to add to the mess of his stomach, and he was too sensitive to continue.

"Fuck," he breathed softly into the suddenly quiet room, staring up at the ceiling with blurry eyes and waiting for his breathing and heartbeat to slow enough to let him up.

That was . . . wow.

That was _wow_.

He'd just gotten off with Mark. Or, well, not completely yet.

A vibration against his leg dragged his attention back to his phone, almost slipping off the couch in the precarious place he'd dropped it, and he forced his sluggish (dry) hand out to pluck it up again.

**Mark:** _I can't decide which I'd like more._

Jack swallowed, too close after his orgasm to really get excited about it, but knowing he'd really like looking back at that.

God, there was going to be so much to look back on.

But later. For now, there was still Mark to . . . well, he wanted to return the favor. Maybe later he'd freak out a little, but for now, he was happy and sated and riding high and he just wanted to make this good for Mark too. And he wasn't sure if his sluggish mind and sluggish fingers were going to be able to do all that much, but he could try at least.

**Jack:** _Fuck_

**Jack:** _I just made such a fucking mess Mark_

Jack didn't know exactly where he was going to go with this, didn't have any fantasies laid out or any real skill with dirty talk. But he was game to try.

He figured Mark was probably about to tease him. Call him out for coming from Mark giving the shortest description of a blowjob ever, and then Jack could maybe . . . what, explain what about that had gotten him off? How much he liked the idea of Mark struggling to look at him as he swallowed around him, how much he'd like to bury his hands in Mark's hair and . . . yeah, come in him or on him, or whatever he wanted.

Except Mark didn't tease him. Instead, there was a pause, a short one, but a pause either way. And then Mark sent a little three-word question.

**Mark:** _Can I see?_

Jack's gut flipped, breath catching in his throat as he read it again. That . . . wasn't what he was expecting. And that was . . . that was a lot. The first picture had already been hard (hah!) and asking for another was . . .

But he could do that. He'd already sent a dick pic. He could at least . . . what, reward Mark with the fruits of his labors?

Jack didn't agonize over the picture this time. He simply opened the camera app, shifted just enough to make it look a little better without making him move that much, and snapped the picture. Same crop from before, same pic as before, but significantly more lazy pose, splayed out in exhaustion rather than aesthetics, and painted in his own come all the way up to his chest.

**Mark:** _Fuck_

Jack's gut flipped again, in a decidedly more pleasurable way, and he grinned at his phone, a weird sense of pride building up in his chest. That was . . . he really liked that reaction, actually.

**Mark:** _Oh fuck_

**Jack:** _It got fucking everywhere. I can't remember the last time I came that hard man_

**Jack:** _Couldn't even answer your question first_

**Jack:** _Which I don't know btw_

**Jack:** _I think I'd have to try both out first_

**Mark:** _Fuck fuck fuck_

Wow, that was . . . that felt great on his pride. Boiling Mark's earlier teasing down to just expletives. He was lax and loose and happy and honestly willing to ride this a little farther than he might have if he hadn't just come hard enough to see stars.

**Jack:** _I'm such a mess I think you could just go ahead and add to it at this point_

**Jack:** _You know, when you're ready to make a mess_

**Jack:** _It wouldn't stick around as long as the marks but it still kinda counts_

Mark didn't answer, and Jack set the phone down on his leg, strangely unbothered. Which was weird, since he probably should have been overthinking the stupid shit he'd just sent, but he was 90% sure that Mark was quiet because he was currently getting off on said stupid shit and that was a-okay with him.

This was supposed to take a lot more thinking to get to that a-okay point, but apparently his brain was just fine letting his dick make some of the decisions.

Jack's phone pinged a few moments later, and he found himself grinning before he'd even unlocked the screen.

**Mark:** _Fuck_

**Jack:** _You good?_

Instead of an answer, a pic popped up, and Jack laughed breathlessly as he clicked to make it bigger, licking his poor, raw lips as he took in the sight.

God, if he hadn't _just_ come.

It was Mark, hip to nose, chest flushed and stomach covered in thin, messy stripes that made Jack's mouth do something funny. But it was the stupid, breathless grin Mark was sporting that was really wreaking havoc on him just then. Bright and beaming and aimed at him.

He looked so goddamn happy.

Jack had done that.

**Mark:** _So fucking good man_

**Jack:** _lol I can see that_

**Mark:** _Yeah_

**Mark:** _Fuck_

**Mark:** _Wow_

**Jack:** _Good words there_

**Mark:** _You're lucky I remember the alphabet at this point_

**Jack:** _I'll take that as a compliment_

**Mark:** _You goddamn should_

**Mark:** _Can't feel my toes_

**Mark:** _Think you broke me_

**Jack:** _With nothing but text_

**Jack:** _Think it might be dangerous to do this where I could actually touch you_

**Jack:** _Might accidentally kill you_

Jack stopped, his own words sinking in, and _ah_, alright, there was some of the discomfort he'd been expecting. Not a lot. But there was a little there.

_Maybe there was some for Mark too, because it took him a moment to answer._

**Mark:** _It doesn't have to be more than this, you know. I know this was a lot. I'm not trying to push anymore than I have._

**Mark:** _I'm cool with this being it or doing just this once in a while or whatever._

Jack read over the messages twice, eyes tracing over the periods, the first punctuation he'd seen from either of them in a while. Mark had obviously taken more care with those messages than the last few. Which was sweet. And Mark being sweet was . . . well, sweet.

He liked it.

He liked a lot of what had happened here.

He liked the idea of maybe other things happening too.

**Jack:** _I don't mind seeing where this goes, I think._

**Mark:** _Yeah?_

**Jack:** _Yeah. Should probably think it over when I'm not covered in jizz, but it's pretty intriguing right now._

__

__

**Mark:** _Oh I'm intriguing am I?_

**Jack:** _Yeah your dick's intriguing_

**Jack:** _I can't believe I barely got five minutes of incoherence from you before you were back to being a douche_

**Mark:** _What can I say? You're hot when you're putting up with my bullshit_

Jack grinned, laughing quietly under his breath as his knuckled traced his lip. Yeah, this was . . . this was good. This seemed like it could be good. He was really interested in seeing how good.

He was pretty sure he had skipped some important parts in the middle, but who cared at this point?

**Jack:** _Sweet talk will get you nowhere._

**Mark:** _Seems to have gotten me pretty far actually_

**Jack:** _Ass_

Something was curling warm and fond in his chest, and he let it unfurl, basking in it alongside the fading buzz and the last of the afterglow. This really hadn't been on his radar, hadn't been something he'd even remotely thought about before that stupid night out, but this was . . . this really wasn't a bad outcome after all.

**Mark:** _I do feel the need to point out that a dick pic probably wouldn't have gone down that well with anyone else. You really should be grateful_

**Jack:** _Yeah, because the weeks of you being insufferable were really the best case scenario, right?_

**Mark:** _Well I mean_

**Mark:** _The payoff was great, wasn't it?_

**Jack:** _You know what?_

**Jack:** _Yeah, I guess it was_

**Jack:** _If only because I found an off button for you_

**Mark:** _Pretty sure it's called an on button Jackababy_

Jack laughed to himself, that warm thing unfurling further in his chest, and he let his head fall back against the couch again, listing to one side, smiling at his phone like an idiot, and riding the stupid buzzing feeling as long as he could.

This was going to be fine.

**Jack:** _Shut up Fischbitch_

He was pretty sure.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing a second chapter, but since this one took MORE THAN A YEAR I'm marking it complete for now until I know if that next chapter is actually gonna happen.
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr](https://poem-is-dead.tumblr.com/), but it's mostly to hoard fanart


End file.
